


Statesman: Ablaze

by discogrrl



Category: Kingsman (Movies), Kingsman: The Golden Circle, Pedro Pascal - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Multi, oc fic, slight AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:08:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23765131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/discogrrl/pseuds/discogrrl
Summary: There's a reason why they say not to fraternize with your fellow Agents, but being friends is excluded from that right? Either way, you're opening yourself up for all sorts of potential heartbreak and betrayal. Four of Statesman's best agents find themselves trying to pick up the pieces as their lives are shattered by a false accusation, forcing one of them out on the run. Can they prove her innocence and try to reassemble the only sense of comfort they've ever known?  Or will it all be set ablaze?
Relationships: Agent Tequila x oc, Agent Tequila/ oc, Agent Whiskey x oc, Agent Whiskey/ oc
Kudos: 1





	1. Rules

**Author's Note:**

> “Trust is like a mirror, you can fix it if it's broken, but you can still see the crack in that motherf*cker's reflection.”- Lady Gaga
> 
> additional warnings: some cursing, Whiskey winking, KFC

“Huh, what’d you say?” 

“Have you seriously not heard a word I just said, Pomegranate?” Alicia King said, sighing. Stakeouts were the worst, and usually being paired up with her good friend Pom Graham, they could be a lot of fun. But it seemed that the young southern woman’s mind wasn’t in the mint green bug they had been in for the past 5 hours. 

“I said I haven’t heard you talk about Whiskey lately...everything okay with y’all?” Alicia asked her friend. Pom had until very recently jabbered on and on about the older Agent Whiskey taking her under his wing. It wasn’t often that the veteran agents took much interest in the new recruits, but Pom was a family friend and as he affectionately called her, _ “his little pomegranate”. _

“No, the stupid cunt has been too fuckin’ busy doing shit in New York to reply to my messages,” Pom said, scrolling through her phone. She didn’t want to admit the sense of abandonment she was starting to feel. She was 24 years old, for fuck's sake, not 4. She was usually one to share anything that was bothering her, and she knew Alicia would understand, but this was something that she wanted to keep reserved. Maybe she was just overthinking.

_ “Absinthe! Come in Agent Absinthe!” _

Alicia reached up and lightly placed a finger on the left leg of her green aviators. Instantly she could see into the Statesman meeting room. A quick glance showed that Champagne was seated at the head of the table, and from where she (or rather her hologram) sat she could tell she was at the opposite end. Next to him was Agent Cognac and across from her was Agent Whiskey’s hologram. It still never ceased to amaze her how incredibly talented Ginger Ale was. Every weapon, every piece of equipment, hell even every fiber of clothing the agents were given all had Ginger's magic touch. 

_ “ _ Is Agent Rum still there with you _?”  _ Champagne asked, taking off his glasses and cleaning them with the cloth square in the front pocket of his jacket, before placing them back onto his face. He gestured towards Ginger, who walked forward from where she had been standing off to the side with her clipboard. As soon as the other Agent was present they could continue their debrief. 

“The old man is asking for you” Alicia laughed, nudging Pom who had once again turned her attention to the view out her window. Pom rolled her eyes, pushing her tortoise framed glasses onto the bridge of her nose. 

“You rang?” she said, making her voice deep and gravelly like Lurch, the Franken-butler from the Addams Family. The girls erupted into a fit of giggles, as Champagne shook his head in disappointment.

“She gets that tomfoolery from watching you!” He said, pointing an accusatory finger at Agent Whiskey’s hologram, the man in question shrugging with a smirk on his face. Champagne turned his attention back to the girls. 

_ “ _ When y’all are finished, I’d like to carry on with this debrief _.”  _ Alicia silently shook with the aftermath of the giggle fit she and Pom had pitched themselves into, but quickly grew serious. If Agent Whiskey was on the call it had to be of grave importance.

“Well I’ve got some good news, and some bad news,” Champagne said, regarding the two holograms at the end of the table. Agent Cognac shifted in her seat next to her boss and grandfather, she was familiar with the temperament of her two friends and braced herself for the fit they were about to throw. 

“Well, the good news is we found out where those rascals are keeping the Senator's daughter hostage. The bad news is that it's not in that warehouse y’all have been staking out all evenin’.” He pulled a fat cigar out of his jacket pocket, passing it under his nose, sucking the smell of it into his nostrils. 

“What the fuck, Champ?!!! You could have told us sooner!!” Pom shouted, she was seething. The color of her face turned red from anger. Not only had she already missed the weekly update of the Mandalorian on Disney+, but she had been stuck in a cramped car with a mix of Alicia’s perfume, her own deodorant, and the leftover stench of the KFC they had eaten. She was on the verge of a headache, and more importantly on the verge of beating the old man with her bat. 

“I told you she was gonna be pissed.” Whiskey muttered. Champ glared at his hologram before continuing his spiel. 

“As I was sayin’, Tequila was wrong; it turns out she's being held in the basement of her own house. Ginger Ale, if you’ll please?” Champ said, watching as the resident tech wiz pulled up security footage on a screen on the wall of the conference room. The Agents watched as Molly Dubois was dragged out of her house and shoved into an unmarked car, only to be returned hours later (still bound with her head in a sack) back to the mansion. 

“As it turns out, with the elections coming up soon, the Senator is looking to boost his image with the voters to ensure he’s re-elected. We were able to intercept some phone calls, I’ll be sending you all the audio recordings to listen to on your own time.” Ginger said, tapping around on her clipboard. Alicia looked over at Pom, the two agents seemingly on the same brain wave. They both knew that Senator Xavier Dubois was a ruthless, greasy, piece of crap. He would do anything to keep the state of Kentucky under his control. 

“What do you need us to do, Champ?” Alicia said, revving her green bug to life and buckling her seat belt. No need for discretion when it wasn’t the right location. “Pom, I know your ass is not wearing a seatbelt, bitch,” Alicia said quietly, stepping on the brake, cackling when Pom lurched forward in her seat colliding with the dashboard. 

“AAARGH! Fuck you!! You didn’t have to fucking brake check me!” Pom yelled, hitting Alicia’s arm before buckling her seatbelt and crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Alright kids, that’s enough! Y’all should know better than to be acting a fool and havin' an attitude during debriefs and y’all are just goofing off, actin’ like y’all ain’t got no good sense.” Champagne said harshly, watching as their holograms faded out. “Whiskey, I want you flying out to HQ asap!” 

“Sure thing boss, I’m on my way.” Whiskey said, winking at Agent Cognac before his hologram also faded out. 

Other agents sitting at the table began to remove their glasses, mirroring the actions of Whiskey, their respective holograms also disappearing. Champ and Agent Cognac were the only ones remaining in the room. Ginger, having slipped out quietly to return to her lab. Cognac turned, realizing her grandpa was staring at her closely. She blushed as she slipped her glasses into the pocket of her jacket. 

“What?” She said, sheepishly pouring herself a glass of water. Champagne glared knowingly at her, putting an end to any other words about to come out of her cherry-red lips. After the tragic death of her parents (both statesman alum), he made it a point to take her in and continue to raise her as his own. He'd be damned if he let his granddaughter fall off onto the wrong side of the law. 

“Don’t think you can pull the wool over my eyes, young lady. I may be old, but I haven’t lost my sight yet!” The elder agent said with great discipline, shaking his finger at her like she was five again. He rose from his seat, moving to stand in front of the window with his hands clasped behind his back. 

“Why are you doing this to me, Carey? You know the rules! No-“

“No fraternizing with fellow Agents! I know, Grandpa,” she said, moving to stand next to him. She felt guilty; Champ had put his neck out for her countless times, hell, he was the sole reason she was still alive. The same people who had killed her parents were set out to kill her too. If he hadn't stepped in when he had….the thought of it made her shudder. 

“First of all, don’t interrupt your old man, Carey Ann. Secondly, if you know you shouldn’t, why do it?! Whiskey is a highly skilled agent; but when he’s off the clock? Jack Daniels is not the kind of man I’d want dating my granddaughter.” Champagne said. Carey sighed, knowing that he was only looking out for her. But if he knew the true extent of the relationship she had with Whiskey, he would grow even more furious. 

“It’s nothing, I promise! I just assist him with things around the New York offices from time to time...” She said innocently, turning to grab her jacket and head for the door.

“Well those ‘things’,” Champagne made air quotes around the words ‘things’, following the young woman with his cold gaze, “Those things better not be in his pants, missy! I’ll tan both of your hides; I don’t give a rat’s ass if you’re 30 years old, damn it!” His words falling on deaf ears, his granddaughter having already disappeared out the door. He sighed in defeat. Wrangling these kids was starting to get harder and harder. 

“Lord help me.”


	2. Home off the Grid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> everyone needs a place to escape to after a long day of kicking ass and taking names.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (a/n: I actually have about 15 chapters written and ready to be posted on a schedule. for once I am taking this fic business seriously, and I have my co-writer Pom to thank for that <3)

“Can you leave the window down? My car smells like fucking fried chicken, and while it may be your fave food it's not mine.” Alicia said, shutting her car engine off. Pom chuckled, obliging her friend’s request. Both women stretched, their joints popping, as they clambered out of the small car and started their walk up the small driveway. 

The Agents had opted to live as far away from the brewery as they could, wanting to make a safe and work free environment for them to escape to. It was a pale green 3 story victorian house with white accents, and a small front porch. Two white rocking chairs moved slightly in the wind, and a white porch swing on the far right end swayed with them. A black and white rip n dip doormat sat under a black double front door, the words _"go away"_ floated next to a white cat flipping any visitors off. A purchase Pom had made while online shopping in the wee early hours of the night. One that Alicia and Dena had found rather hilarious and Carey had simply shaken her head. 

“I’m gonna murder your boyfriend, he’s as dumb as a fucking rock, I swear it!” Alicia exclaimed, walking towards the front door of the shared home, twisting her head this way and that in a vain attempt to pop her still stiff neck. She could hear Pom curse at her under her breath. “What was that? Use your words miss ma’am” Alicia teased, knowing Tequila was a nuisance for Pom. He had been Alicia's friend first, and one-day on a whim she had invited them to a carnival accompanying the rodeo that was in town. Soon, the three of them were inseparable. Tequila however soon developed feelings for Pom, his endless pining no secret to anyone.  The ex-rodeo clown meant well, and when he wasn't trying to convince the southern beauty to go two-stepping with him, the two got along very well. 

“I said he ain’t my fuckin’ boyfriend,” Pom responded, she was frustrated but smiled all the same. She reciprocated the crush but put her job as a Statesman agent first. She refused to let anyone or anything jeopardize her career. The brunette removed the brown cowboy hat sitting on her head, using it to fan herself in the heat, waiting for Alicia to unlock the front door. 

“Whatever you say!” Alicia sang, throwing the door open. Pom followed the woman into the entryway, shutting and locking the door behind her. The smell of delicious food wafted towards where the two girls stood, as they began dispensing the arsenal of personal weapons they had into their designated shelves in the entryway. Pom hung her hat on the hook on the wall next to the door. Alicia groaned, taking her box braids out of the ponytail she had forced them into, massaging her scalp. 

"I don't know how you can stand having those things pulled back like that!" Pom said, emptying her pistols before placing them back in their holsters. 

"Trust me, one I'm gonna shave my head, and I only kept them in because I spent so much on them for that one assignment. Why waste money? Carey Ann, is that your cooking I smell?" Alicia called, making her way further into the house. She paused a moment, kicking her shoes off in the mudroom off to the left. 

“Yup! I’m in the kitchen, y’all! Make sure you leave your shoes in that mudroom, I just swept!”’ Carey called out to them from the direction of the kitchen. 

Whatever she had been making since she had come home had made the house warm and cozy, the warmth of the oven lightly combating the aircon. Carey was the oldest of the four women living in that house. She had recently moved to New York, assisting Agent Whiskey in running the New York office. Occasionally, she would return to their humble abode in Kentucky. Most household responsibilities fell on her, their other roommate Dena had been away for almost a year on assignment in Europe seeking out an alleged brother agency. Usually, Pom and Alicia were left to their own devices, sticking to take-out orders, or the occasional soup and grilled cheese combo Alicia cooked up. It wasn't often Alicia or Pom cooked, let alone cleaned. It was nice to have their Agent Mom back in town. 

Pom hastily unzipped the sides of her boots, sliding them off to reveal her cute space patterned socks, ‘ _ The best feeling ever is taking your shoes off after a fuckin’ long day of work.’  _ she thought to herself. Pom’s hair stuck up in odd angles, no secret the hat that had been resting on her head all day. She combed her fingers through it, the brown tresses fell to her shoulders in thick, uncontrollable waves. 

“It’s good to see you here, and not on a fucking screen, ma’am.” Alicia snooped through the pots on the stove, hungrily eyeing Carey’s homemade fried pork chops, mashed potatoes, and mac & cheese warming idly on the stove. Alicia only two kinds of southern cooking, her Grandma Beaulah's, and Carey's(a close second). 

"Yeah, bitch. I thought you might have forgotten about us.” Pom called out from the living room, w here she had placed herself comfortably down on the couch, flicking through something on her phone. She sighed, still no response from Whiskey. Had she upset him without realizing it?  _ ‘Fuckin’ Whiskey, I wish he could’ve told me instead of ignoring me like a dumbass.’  _ she thought, shutting off her phone and tossing it to the other end of the couch.

“Well, if y’all acted 24 and 25 years old and not little children, you wouldn’t need me to come home to cook and clean for y’all. Dena hasn’t even been here and she still keeps her room clean!” Carey teased, swatting Alicia’s hands away from the food. Even if she had been present, Dena and Carey were definitely the neatest of the four. Carey had tried in vain to get the other two younger women to help, even going so far as to leave everything to pile up. It had taken a roach crawling across Alicia's face one night in her sleep to finally get them to step up. Now they kept a chore list on a dry erase board in the laundry room, and the katsaridaphobic agent no longer left dirty dishes in her room. 

“Girl, they’re clean. And for the record, Pom and I do take care of ourselves! For example, I did all the laundry in the house and Pom got rid of that possum that was living in the roof. Perfectly responsible.” Alicia said smugly, giggling as Pom chimed in quietly from her spot on the couch about the _‘Cunt ass possum that tried to eat her fucking face even though she had given him a slice of ham as a fucking peace offering headass’_. 

“Pom, why don’t you come join us instead of mumbling with your colorful vocabulary from the couch; the food is ready.” Carey laughed, shaking her head at her roommate's antics. She grabbed the rolls out the oven, before removing her apron and oven mitts. She moved to pull a pitcher of sweet tea out of the fridge, and then stood back proudly to admire her work. Dinner was served. 

“You sound like my fuckin’ mom,” Pom uttered as she hoisted herself up from the couch, making her way into the kitchen to wash her hands. 

“I may as well be. But enough bickering, I missed y'all two!” Carey said, carrying her plate of food to the table where Alicia already sat eating. 

“I’m not really hankerin’ for anything, but thanks, Carey. I love you… _fuck head_.” Pom told Carey with her unique version of affection, leaning against the island in the kitchen and removing her rusty-colored jacket from her body. Pom's jokes and colorful nicknames were her own brand of love, and while it was offputting the first time she called you something like _"hoe bag",_ you learned to acknowledge the underlying _"I love you"._

“Well at least stay and sit with us, I’ve got something to tell y’all,” Carey said, patting the chair next to her. She needed to tell somebody about how she and Jack had recently started seeing each other. She figured he had already told Tequila, and felt justified in telling the girls. Pom sat down in the chair with a grunt after placing her jacket on the table. 

“Oh do tell, this wouldn’t happen to do with a certain _mustached_ cowboy would it?” Alicia batted her eyelids, and suggestively wiggled her eyebrows. Pom knew exactly what this conversation was going to lead to. She wasn’t a fucking idiot; she noticed every small exchange between Carey and Whiskey, it was just something she had an eye for. The two had known each other for over two years and had recently started to go out with each other seriously. It was a wonder they hadn't started fooling around sooner.

“W-well...about that” Carey giggled nervously, maybe she wouldn’t tell them after all. 

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Carey Ann! Are you fucking Ole Jack Daniels?!” Alicia exclaimed, pointing her fork accusingly at the shorter Agent. Pom couldn’t help herself from letting out a loud chuckle, moving her long legs to sit cross-legged on the chair. 

“Alright, fine. Whiskey and I may or may not have been seeing each other exclusively for the past year while I’ve been back and forth from New York.” Carey said, casually taking a sip from her glass of tea, the clinking ice cubes being the only sound for a brief moment. 

“I  _ fuckin’  _ knew it!” Agent Rum pronounced with great amusement, looking over at Carey with a menacing smile. 

“YAS BITCH, OH MY GOD! Tell us everything, and I do mean everything!” Alicia said, standing up and playfully pulling Carey into a noogie. 

The girls laughed, Carey pushed Alicia back into her chair before smoothing out her blonde curly hair. Carey was glad that the girls hadn’t reacted negatively like she thought they would. She had missed this comradery with the girls while staying in New York; she leaned forward fully retelling everything that had been happening. It was nice to finally be home. 

* * * * * 

Pom Graham was awake earlier than the rest of her housemates, as usual. Most nights she would stay up until midnight listening to her favorite kinds of music and trying to gain motivation to do her beloved hobby of painting. But she never slept for long as her natural body clock woke her up just a few short hours after she fell asleep. Still, she was always filled with so much energy. 

Pom tip-toed out of her room and down the flight of stairs in hopes of not waking her friends. She was already dressed in her usual outfit that the others rarely saw her out of. The living space downstairs was decorated with rustic, but comfortable furniture and pots of greenery scattered around. Photographs and posters could be found on the walls. 

She threw herself on to the couch in front of the large, technologically advanced television. With a press of a button on the remote, the screen came to life with the morning news channel. ‘ _Boring_.’ Pom thought, ‘ _Carey_ _must have been watching it last._ ’

“ _ The daughter of beloved Kentucky senator, Xavier Dobios, is still missing and it’s sending everybody into quite the state of distress….. _ ” Said the monotone voice of the news reporter on the TV. Pom scoffed at his words. 

“Fuck off, _‘beloved’_ ” Pom returned in a sharp whisper, smiling with amusement. She clicked another button and the kid’s channel started to play. Pom never really liked to watch television, but when she did, she would always turn on the channel that entertained her most.

“Good morning, Pomegranate.” Came Carey’s sweet but groggy voice from the doorway leading into the kitchen. Carey was dressed in cute, pink pajamas and her hair was quite the mess. She let out a big yawn. 

“Mornin’, you’re up early,” Pom responded, turning her head to give Carey a nice smile. Carey walked back into the kitchen to start preparing coffee and breakfast for herself and her housemates. 

“What do you want for breakfast? And I know you don’t like coffee, so what do you want to drink?” Carey asked from the kitchen to Pom. She sat there thinking for a moment before answering. 

“Peanut butter toast. And some water. Bless your heart, Carey.” Pom returned gently. Carey was surprised to see how calm she was. She was used to seeing the hot-tempered, mischievous, and swearing version of Pom. But she appreciated seeing this side to her too because Carey knew that’s who she really is. Pom never failed to make her laugh and smile. 

Carey made food and coffee with the sound of Pom watching the kid’s channel playing in the background. Alicia probably wasn’t going to be awake for a few more hours but Carey poured her a cup of warm coffee just in case. 

“I don’t know how you have so much energy all the time, Pom,” Carey said as she sat on the couch next to Pom, handing her the plate of peanut butter toast and a glass of water. She sipped on her own cup of coffee just the way she liked it. 

“I’ve consumed so much fuckin’ sugar in my life that I’m constantly on a sugar high.” Pom joked to her friend, smiling. Carey laughed, the sound mixing the soft sounds of the old Victorian settling over them. It wasn’t often they got a morning to themselves, and they knew they’d have to head to work soon, but for now, HQ could wait.

**“GOOD MORNING VIETNAM!”** Alicia yelled, bounding in the kitchen shattering the quiet moment the girls had settled into with their breakfast. Carey and Pom sighed, watching as she effortlessly leaped onto the island in the middle of the kitchen. Her gray sweatpants slung low on her hips, her lilac sleep shirt wrinkled, and her braids still wrapped up in the bonnet on her head; she looked crazy.

“What in Sam Hill are you doing?!” Carey said, standing up and rushing to try and push the taller woman off. 

“I have some good news, bitches! Dena’s coming home sooner than we thought!” Alicia was elated, it had been almost two months since Agent Sangria had been in contact with Statesman, and more importantly her roommates. She had been advised to keep all communications, few and far in between. Should there be a brother agency, it would be in Statesman's best interest to not alert them of their presence in their territory; what if they were a rogue organization? The return of the lively Latina was definitely a cause for celebration. 

“Wait, how do you know?” Carey asked, realizing that Alicia wasn’t budging off her pedestal. She looked over at Pom who looked just as puzzled as she was, no one had any recent contact with Dena. Everything had been dark. Pom got off the couch to get closer to them. 

“Well, as y’all know, I spend most of my free time in the lab with Ginger. And I was able to create a concealable communication device!” Alicia said proudly, taking what looked like a normal bottle of concealer. But the girls knew better, Alicia was a crazy tech wiz and inventor. Her and Ginger both could put Tony Stark to shame.

“How does that shit even work… it’s fuckin’ makeup.” Pom questioned. She couldn’t remember the last time she had set foot in the lab, or the last time she wore makeup. Pom would rather be training and being troublesome with the male agents than behind a vanity or in a lab coat. 

“Listen, I know it looks a little out of sorts but I promise it works! And the cosmetic part of the contraption is fully functional.” Alicia opened the packaging and did a swatch of the makeup on her arm. A perfect match.

“Say we can’t take any phones or even our glasses with us? Who’s gonna suspect a woman with a compact mirror and bottle of concealer? The idea is we use the idea of the fragile female that men have created against them. But my feminist spiel aside, I talked to Dena and she should be here by the end of next week!” Alicia got down from the counter, slipping her “concealer” into the front pocket of her black backpack. 

Pom leaned against the counter as she smiled, "You’re a genius.” She said to Alicia softly.

“I’m no Ginger Ale, but I try! Also, I’ve been making a bat prototype for you in the lab! I meant to surprise you for your birthday but I can’t wait any longer.” Pom smiled at this. Alicia started to continue but paused. The Statesman designated ringtone grew louder from where it was playing on their tv. _Well, duty calls._

The three agents made their way into the living room, Carey grabbing the remote from its spot on the ottoman. Once they had all settled themselves on the comfy couch, she pressed the answer button. 

“Good morning, Angels!” Champagne greeted; the great window behind his head visible on the tv screen. It wasn’t uncommon for Champ to contact them while they were at home; saving more discreet missions for the four of them to take care of. It saved time, resources, and quite frankly more lives than if they were to send Whiskey, Tequila, or any of the other male agents instead. Hence the moniker, “Angels”.

“Good morning, Champ!” Alicia crowed, shifting to sling her legs across Pom and Carey’s laps making herself comfortable. Pom hastily grabbed Alicia’s feet from her lap and started to tickle them with no remorse, and her loud and mischievous laughs filled the room. 

“Would y’all stop? Jesus Christ.” Carey said, pushing Alicia’s legs off the couch and inserting herself between her and Pom. “Sorry, Champ, continue please!” Carey said, turning her attention back to the man on the screen. Pom was holding back her laughter as best as she could. 

“Well, when y’all are done horsing around, I have something for y’all to take care of. As you know, the senator is hiding his daughter trying to make it seem like she’s been kidnapped. Tonight, he is hosting a gala to impress some of the big wigs in the country and gain more support. I need y’all to infiltrate the gala and expose this sun’ a bitch before he can carry this tomfoolery on any longer.” 

“Do I gotta dress all fancy and shit?” Pom asked, pulling her jacket tighter around herself. She had makeup, she hated dresses, and if she didn't hate her unruly hair getting in her face, she'd hate doing it too. 

“I would prefer it if you did. The senator is very conservative, and has a strict dress code for this event.” Champagne said. Pom sighed angrily at this. 

“Awe, c’mon, Pomegranate. I thought you liked playing dress up.” the screen expanded to show that none other than Agent Whiskey sat next to Champagne at the grand mahogany meeting room table. 

“Whiskey!” Pom exclaimed with joy. A big grin was on her face now. She tucked her messy waves of hair behind her ears. Pom could feel her heart racing with pure happiness. Whiskey was the closest thing she had to a father, and she practically glowed in his attention. 

“Howdy darlin’, you ready to join your old man on the dance floor?” Whiskey tipped his hat, grinning at the young agent. 

The adopted father and daughter duo were the best partnership to come out of Statesman; Whiskey having taken Pom under his wing, saying that he saw himself in her. A troubled girl who needed a little guidance and TLC, and had unfathomable potential. Whiskey had promised Pom’s mother that he would ensure that the young woman would be taken care of while she was in the states. A promise that had been well kept. 

“While I’m all for sappy reunions, I need you, girls, to get gussied up and make your way to that gala ASAP! I’m sending Whiskey to pick y’all up at _0800_ , We got a party to crash.” Champagne said, ending the video call. 

Alicia stood and looked at her phone, an invitation addressed to a Penelope Vontrapp, and associates lit up her screen. “Well Miss Pom, or should I say Miss Penelope; it looks like you get to play the part of the daughter of some rich oil tycoon.” 

“Fuck you, I’m not wearing any fuckin’ makeup!!” Pom said while jumping off the couch to sprint up to her room before the others could stop her. 

“YOU’RE LUCKY THEY’RE MAKING A BIG DONATION IN YOUR HONOR! OTHERWISE, I’D BE FORCING YOU INTO A DRESS AND PUTTING SOME BLUSH ON THOSE CHEEKS!” Alicia shouted up the stairs, knowing that Pom was going to put on the same suede pantsuit she wore to all Statesman functions. It would be a cold day in hell before anyone forced her into a dress, and Alicia knew better than to even try and wrestle her into one. 

“Will you curl my hair, please? May as well get some joy out of tonight.” Carey remarked, making her way up the stairs. Alicia noticed the sad air around her friend, she stopped reaching out to grab her friend's arm. 

“What’s wrong? You were all chipper early, now you’re all….” Alicia made a fart noise with her mouth, hoping it would bring a small smile to her Carey’s face. 

“It’s nothing, I promise. Just forget it, okay?” Carey pulled her arm away, continuing up the stairs. But it wasn’t really anything. Was it right for her to feel a little envious that Whiskey hadn’t acknowledged her? Had Champ told him something? Or was she just overthinking? Either way, they had a mission to focus on, and this worrying and pining could wait. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a couple more tricks up my sleeve. my uni classes will be ending in less than a week, and I hope to seriously finish off the works I started. feel free to continue throwing the rotten produce, and follow my Tumblr: @writer-rochelle for fic updates and to see my other writings.  
> cheers <3

**Author's Note:**

> I know what y'all are thinking... and yes I have started another work without finishing my others :D   
> HOWEVER, this being co-written by a very good friend (and my personal bully) so for once in my life, I will be actively updating. I promise. Scouts Honor. I hope you all enjoyed this first chapter and I have it posted on Tumblr, writer-rochelle if you guys wanna go leave and requests or bully me there too ;(
> 
> stay safe, healthy, and inside <3


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